


Safe

by WriterWithNoName1



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Affection, Complicated Relationships, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Power Imbalance, Sexual Tension, Smoking, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 23:12:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18214949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriterWithNoName1/pseuds/WriterWithNoName1
Summary: Kieran goes to Bill's tent.





	Safe

**Author's Note:**

> My attempt to make what would be a toxic relationship slightly less toxic?? Idk I think they are capable of nicer, quieter moments, but Bill is still...well, Bill :/

He goes to Bill’s tent after he’s done with the horses.

Kieran removes his boots before he enters; Bill has a thing about folks wearing their shoes inside his quarters. One of many ‘things’ that can cause an outburst Kieran would rather not deal with, not after a long day with the horses. He loves his work, of course, but he’s bone tired right about now and hopes Bill is in a decent sort of mood.

Inside there is the thick scent of tobacco. Bill is enjoying a smoke, lying on his cot, already stripped down to just his shirt and pants. There's a hole in one of his socks, and his big toe is poking through; the nail is ragged and starting to go yellow. Kieran wrinkles his nose, then coughs, there’s a lot of smoke filling up the tent.

The sounds of the camp outside are muffled. Kieran thinks he can hear some laughter not too far away.

It’s a very small world. Just the two of them.

“Did ye wash after you were finished with those horses?” Bill asks, chewing the cigarette between his teeth.

Kieran shrugs. “Got tired... thought I’d come straight here.”

Bill grunts, and points to a bucket of water in one corner. “Get rid of that beast stink first.”

Personally, Kieran doesn’t think the horses smell so bad. Sure it’s not great when you’re not used to it, but there are worse things to smell of. He removes his shirt, washes his hands, his face, pits. Feeling a little better after all of it, Kieran stands and goes to put his shirt back on.

“No.” Bill says. “That thing is filthy.”

He tosses a flannel at Kieran, one of his.

“Thank you kindly, Mister Williamson.” Kieran mutters, pulling it over his head. Its miles too big, baggy around the arms and stomach where Bill has worn and stretched it. But it’s warm, and dry, and Kieran don’t mind.

Bill seems to approve. “C’mere then, Mister Duffy.”

Kieran blushes, going pink around the nose and ears.

It’s always hard to tell with Bill what’s an order and what’s not. Kieran is amicable, so he goes along with most things. He knows if he were to leave, now, of his own free will, Bill would not stop him. He would holler, and scream obscenities, maybe throw something. But he wouldn’t stop Kieran from going.

Sitting up, Bill guides Kieran to sit down between his bulky legs. He lands with an oomph, and gets comfortable against the bigger man’s chest. When Kieran stretches out, he rests head against Bill’s fuzzy cheek. The man always smells faintly of liquor, no amount of cologne will disguise that but he also smells of firewood, of leather. Bill loops an arm around his waist, starts to rub Kieran’s stomach in small circles; he puffs lazily on his cigarette.

“Can-” Kieran hesitates. “Can I have some?”

Bill glares down at him, but removes the stick from his mouth and hands it to Kieran.

Kieran puffs gratefully. Truth be told, he isn’t much of a smoker, but can’t resist the occasional indulgence. His Pa would have called it ‘surrendering to temptation’.

He supposes he is doing just that.

Bill’s hands start to wander, exploring, squeezing. He's not a patient man. Kieran finishes the cigarette and tosses it to the floor, then jerks his hips up when Bill reaches them; a reflex.

He can hear the smirk in Bill’s aroused voice. "Eager, huh?” He roughly kisses Kieran’s shoulder. “So fucking pretty. No man on god’s green earth has any right bein’ so pretty...”

Kieran called Mary-Beth pretty once; he wonders if she felt what he’s feeling now.

Bill takes Kieran’s dick out of his pants, cradles him almost. Sparks ignite in his loins, Kieran’s breath hitches. “Oh my lord...”

The other man growls, and fists a hand in Kieran’s slick hair. “Hush up, d’you want everyone to hear?”

Kieran swallows. “S-Sorry, Bill.”

Bill possessively kisses his neck. “Shh would ya? I got you.”

He curls around Kieran, he’s a huge man, making Kieran feel small.

Bill strokes him, hard and fast; Kieran gives up trying to talk. All he can do now is pant and moan, with the feeling of Bill’s hard prick digging into his back.


End file.
